


Books and Cooks

by bmvagawood



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Including that whole Convo™️ from ep 41, SPOILERS UP TO EPISODE 41, Some bonding, as canon compliant as i can make it but ya know, born out of cad and caleb not interacting much so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:39:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16581053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmvagawood/pseuds/bmvagawood
Summary: ((Spoilers, up to & including episode 41))He looks at him again, Caleb sat on a wooden crate pushed against the ship’s interior wall. He had said the other day that he liked to work in the kitchen, something about the nice smells and white noise. Caduceus supposes that’s better than Caleb avoiding him. The Mystake is much too small for avoiding to be done comfortably.





	Books and Cooks

**Author's Note:**

> I really like Cad and Caleb’s possible dynamic and after they finally interacted, I feel Vindicated enough to post this.  
> Thanks and love to my bestie, Stella, for looking this over for me, check her out at theorangewitch on here and proficiencybonus on tumblr.

     Mr. Caleb Widogast is a powerful man, as well as a very haunted one. Caduceus had first thought it was his friend’s death that weighed the wizard so heavy. Sure, Mollymauk’s death has been worn very differently by each member, some wear it as clear as a brand while others tuck it away. Caleb is the latter, and Caduceus knows he is hoarding quite a few deaths. There’s a sadness to Caleb, clear to any eye who cared to look, but should you peer deeper, there’s guilt etched into his bones. 

       Caduceus only noticed after they freed Mr. Gustav. He knows well how people usually take his words, saw it obvious as the sun in Gustav’s reactions and some members’ insistences that he be silent. Yet Caleb had looked at him, eyes like butterfly pea flowers, and he saw trepidation and something tired. Almost resignation.

      It wasn’t terribly difficult to read Caleb, but nor was it particularly easy. People like him and Fjord are well versed in concealing emotions, even faking them when needed. Yet, amongst the Mighty Nein, Caduceus can easily find the cracks in Caleb’s shell. The hesitation at praise, discomfort with affection, and occasional cold words spell a fear of trust. A fear that usually stems from having that trust betrayed before.

     The fear is obvious. The sadness is obvious. The self-hatred you have to pick apart to see fully. And a heartbreaking sight it is.

     Caduceus watches him scribble away from the corner of his eye. He and Caleb don’t speak much, the silences between them comfortable. Often, each are focused on different things like Caleb on his… wizard...stuff and Caduceus on his cooking, such as right now. But it's a simple soup of salted meat and chopped vegetables in a delicious broth. Of course, his meatless option of salads with ripened fruit has been done for nearly an hour now. In short, his concentration is not heavily required as usual and he thinks instead.

      Caleb is not a main topic of thought, but Caduceus would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought of him before. There’s something magnetic about the man, like a fresh plot of land. Maybe it’s the mud streaks on his coat. Nott said something before about her boy having  _ potential _ , and Caduceus wonders how deep does that truth run. But there’s also a glimmer to Caleb in each little act of friendship, a bright little thing buried beneath barriers and walls.  

        He looks at him again, Caleb sat on a wooden crate pushed against the ship’s interior wall. He had said the other day that he liked to work in the kitchen, something about the nice smells and white noise. Caduceus supposes that’s better than Caleb avoiding him. The Mystake is much too small for avoiding to be done comfortably. 

      “What are you doing over there?” Caduceus spoons out a potato to test. Not done yet, still fairly hard. In the corner of his eye, there’s a movement of reddish brown. Caleb probably looking up. The sound of charcoal against paper quiets to nothing.

       “Erm, editing my spells. It’s, ah, rather boring.”

        Caduceus hums, stirring the soup. “Why are you doing it, then?”

        The sound resumes, if slower. “Well,  _ I _ don’t find it boring. But… most do. Your magic is faith based, so I assumed you’d be uninterested.” 

        Caduceus hears him shift a little, much like he does when he’s eager to search for bookshops or explore old ruins. So he asks while taking his pot off the heat, “Well, I don’t know anything about it, why don’t you explain it?”

        Caduceus isn’t surprised to hear Caleb talk himself hoarse. He is, after all, the apparent only one besides Nott to remember how Caleb fitted fairly well into the role of leader. He was confident and sure in how he addressed the group, and kept a strong face even after losing one of their own. Then Caduceus learned the usual Caleb after the leader position was returned; he watched the human recede back into his role as the ‘smart, quiet one’.

        But  _ this _ Caleb is much preferable to leader Caleb, which was obviously not a role he had liked. Here, there’s a passion to how he describes the power of study and dedication, the way he draws out the symbols with his words so Caduceus can see them even while peeling oranges. He spells out arcane words and goes into a tangent about how a misstep in pronunciation would result in either a backfire or simply a waste. 

        And Caduceus tries his best to keep up, especially after hearing Caleb’s terribly hidden delight when he asks a question. Caleb even asks  _ him _ questions, about the Wildmother and her expectations, about how Caduceus learns his spells. All centered around magic, of course, but it’s not a bad start. 

-

        “What does your magic feel like?” Caleb asks the next day, while Caduceus skins a seagull Nott shot down that morning.

        He has to think about that for a bit. It’s not the type of pause he takes while digesting one of Caleb’s lessons, but one he needs to find his words. They had discovered they had that in common, the pause, but still a little different. Caleb has so many words swirling in his head that it takes time to pinpoint the right one. Caduceus thinks often in emotions and images, it takes time to remember the matching words. So they know to wait for each other; Caleb is quiet, pencil scribbling away.

        “It..depends on which spell,” he admits, staring at his pile of feathers. “A few aren’t pleasant.” Caduceus thinks about his color fading, face withering to match his enemy, despite technically absorbing life. It chills him. “But most, especially healing, feel right, I suppose… I don’t know if that’s the answer you want.”

        Caleb chuckles from his spot on the crate. Caduceus had looked around for anything soft to add to the crate, but it seems pirates don’t care much for plush. But the wizard never complains and hardly moves much.

        “If you are speaking the truth, Herr Clay, then I am satisfied.” He’s amused, it colors his voice well, like the nice blue of his eyes against his pale skin. 

        “What about you? If you don’t mind the question, of course.”

        As the words leave his mouth, Caduceus predicts the pause that comes and knows too that this one would be very different from what they share. It’s one that follows any of their tugs at Caleb’s dark, tangled knot. A pause that feels like when there’s an extra step on the stairs as you’re walking down and your heart catches for a second. This is Caleb’s mind working faster than Caduceus could imagine, calculating every possibility as he considers answering at all.

        When he does answer, Caduceus stops to listen. “...It depends. Like a shot of adrenaline, sometimes, liquid power.” There’s a sigh, one so heavy it stays, clinging to his voice. “Other times, it feels like wasted energy- draining, I guess.”

        To anyone else, it may seem as if that was a full answer, and even a completely honest one, but Caduceus doesn’t continue deboning his bird. He waits and waits, hands covered in gore and feathers.

        “It is a tool,” Caleb mutters softly, “a means to an end.”

        They spend the rest of the hour quietly, Caleb lost in his head and Caduceus in the pondering of reasons for such an intense guilt to manifest.

-

        “Mr. Caleb, do you believe in fate?” Caduceus asks, this time they aren’t in a kitchen, but his own room and it's terribly late. The periapt hangs from Caleb’s fingers, a reward, a welcome, a gift. “There’s a lot of different kinds of fate, I know that’s a heavy question,” he amends upon seeing the sudden furrow of reddish brown eyebrows, “but do you believe that we are driven towards something by things that are greater than ourselves?

        Caleb seems to consider his question as he stands, stare far and blank. Caduceus waits noting how Caleb’s eyes grow sad upon glancing at periapt still dangling from his fingers. “I don’t know,” he admits, but not very bothered by it, “I would like to think not, but I don’t know.”

        Caduceus isn’t surprised, to say the least. Caleb’s interest in the Wildmother had extended only as far as Caduceus was involved and he was blatantly perturbed by Fjord’s patron for obvious reasons, not religious ones.

        “There are times that I think about the cruelties of the world and the things that have put upon me and my family, and I would hate for that to be a plan.” Caleb’s stare is intense, but not out of anger nor even sympathy. He only seems intent on listening to his every word. “And there are times—like today—that I am very grateful for being at the right place at the right time to make sure the right people are becoming strong in the ways they need to be.

        “And I don't think it excuses the pain and I don’t think that you have to not care about it or.. fight it with everything you got, but…” Caduceus looks at him, studies Caleb’s set jaw and stiff shoulders. He meets that fierce blue stare and holds it. “I think the world is shaping you into something important and I want to make sure that you get to wherever you need to be.”

        Caleb is visibly taken aback, intensity lost in favor of blinking up at him. “That's a pretty big matzoh ball,” he responds, more wary than thankful.

        Caduceus only smiles at him. “Well you won't have to work very hard at it, I imagine. I think just being you wherever the world puts you will do just fine.” He does mean it, Caleb’s ambition is quiet, but not absent. 

        Caleb moves to press the periapt into his hands, face carefully neutral again. “Well... if you have this— _ this is magic by the way _ ,” he whispers the last part like a secret and Caduceus can’t help but feel a little fond.

        “Haha, I can tell. Thank you.”

        The wizard nods, stepping back to look him in the eye. Height difference, always a thing. “I help you, that makes it easier for you to help all of us.” Caleb’s stern about that, mouth dipping into a slight frown.

        “I promise I will continue to help you all. This is, uh- even when we’re not the best of people, I think we're moving towards something good and worthwhile.” Caduceus sighs. “I think I’m feeling the struggles of my way to bring us to where we need to be.” He imagines they all have struggles and is convinced by Caleb’s slight rueful smile.

        “Welcome to the Nein.” 

        Caduceus looks at the gift and then the man. “I’m honored.” Caleb’s face jumps a bit at that, but he reigns it in before Caduceus can get a solid beat on the emotion. On a better day, he might’ve tried to read into him more and pick through the stoic face, but...

        “Well I feel like shit so I’m going to go to bed,” Caleb declares, scrubbing at the dried salt and sand clinging to his beard. Caduceus’s head throbs at the memory of the close battle and his curiosity concedes.

        Instead, he walks with Caleb to the door and says a final, “Thank you for this, I won’t forget it.”

        Caleb gives a stiff nod before he’s walking down the hall and vanishing into his room. Caduceus mentally adds  _ discomfort with receiving thanks _ to his Caleb list before preparing for a much needed rest. 


End file.
